


Peppe Nappa

by WomanFromLaurentina



Category: Boardwalk Empire
Genre: F/M, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WomanFromLaurentina/pseuds/WomanFromLaurentina
Summary: A young woman must try and navigate through passion and misery being married to one of the most dangerous men in the country. Can she leave her girlish dreams behind and focus on hardening her heart against the man she sees the light of potential in? Will she be able to withstand the force of nature that is her husband?





	1. February

February is always the most boring month. January the most depressing but even then there is always a small glimmer of hope the new year would be happier. But February had a way of sucking the life out of you. The cold seemed relentless. As did the dark days. Easter would be coming soon. At least there would be some activity then. I was getting closer to home. In an effort to drag out the journey a bit more I turned a corner and walked up the street adjacent to mine and walked slower, looking up at the windows and imagining the lives of the people who lived inside. If they felt what I felt. If all they had to look forward to is Easter lunch.

“Hello, Lucrezia.” The jingling of a bell snapped me out of my thoughts. Looking around I saw Philip DeGregorio. He was a tall and skinny fifteen year old and was beginning to sport a downy moustache that was both hilarious and curiously heart breaking.

“Hello Philip.” I smiled at him as he came to a halt beside me.

“How is school?” “Normal. Boring.” He shrugged.

“It´s not the same since you finished.” He held my eyes with such an intensity that belonged more to a grown man than a boy that I felt myself blush and look away. I had to nip whatever notions he had in the bud. I was at more than three years older than him.

“Rosalia Martelli was asking about you last Sunday at mass.” I offered him. He cast that off with another shrug and shifted on the bike.

“Would you like a ride home?” He patted the cross bar of the bike and smiled.

“No, thank you.” I smiled and started to walk home. I knew Philip would keep pace beside me and sure enough he did.

We chatted all the way home. He was struggling a bit at school. He dad was pushing him to try harder and get into a university. The thought crossed my mind to tutor him but I knew he would either be too proud to accept or use it as an opportunity to try and seduce me. I offered him helpful advice here and there instead in the most noncommittal voice I could use and of course that made me feel guilty.

As we rounded the corner onto 3rd a group of men caught my eye immediately.

Luciano.

He was like a force of nature. A thunderstorm. A bolt of lightning. Electric. Distant. Dangerous. But also magnetic. I felt myself blush as we made eye contact. A nod was his only recognition of me.

And like a bolt of lightning he was gone. Leaving the impression that the whole encounter didn’t happen.

“Do you know him?” Philip whispered, looking back at the group of men as they rounded the corner.

“No. I don’t.”

_I remember that is was a hot day, stifling. The room smelt of sweat. I could feel my own trickling down my face and cleavage. My feet hurt as my shoes slammed on the floor. I cursed as I felt the tell tale cramp of my monthly in my lower back. The wave of nausea. Dizziness. All of that I had to put at the back of my head. I couldn’t stop now without ruining the whole number. The guitar and mandolin cresendoed and we all marched forward and slammed our feet on the final move that made my left toe throb in pain. We stood for a few seconds, arms bent gracefully, chests puffed out until Señora Linares clapped once, signalling our release. Every girl puffed out a tired breath and sat on the floor, some lying down._

_I didn’t. I knew that if I did I wouldn’t want to get back up so instead I went straight to the changing room and peeled my sweaty clothes off and stuffed them into my bag. Grabbing my towel I marched into the shower and winced only for a second as the freezing water cooled my skin. My felt my head begin to throb then. My throat felt like I had swallowed a lump of concrete. I wanted to go home. Go to bed. I wanted my mom to take care of me. Getting dressed quickly I said goodbye to some of my friends and made my way out of the studio and into the blinding midday sun._

_My head was throbbing more now, my throat constricting. Home felt like a million miles away instead of the twenty minute walk. I was suddenly overcome with a wave of dizziness that I didn’t even notice that I was on the pavement on my hands and knees. I knew that my palms and knees were bloody but I couldn’t feel it. I heard people talking to me. I felt a warm pair of hands on my face and then a strong pair arms pick me up and carried me inside somewhere cool and dark. The smell of coffee and tobacco smoke make me want to vomit._

_“No…please…put me down.” I mumbled, embarrassed but not embarrassed enough to try and wriggle free._

_“Shush, relax.” A gruff voice told me. The voice that belonged to the arms. I was set down gently on a chair and I immediately bent over and put my face in my hands._

_“Wait.” He took them away from my face and ran a damp cloth over them. He then dabbed my cheeks and forehead. “I don’t feel well.” I said to him. “I kinda figured.” He dabbed at my knees then._

_“Where do you live?” Another man asked me. “Do your parents have a telephone?”_

_“Yes…” I fumbled for my bag but the effort made me feel nauseous again._

_“Don’t, we will find it.” The gruff voice man told me._

_“What´s your name?”_

_“Lucrezia.”_

_“Toto,” An older man´s voice almost boomed over, the Sicilian accent was thick._

_“We need to go.”_

_“Yeah, I´m coming.” He pressed the cloth into my hand and squeezed his hand over mine._

_“Take care Lucrezia.” I looked into his face then. Dark hazel eyes bored into mine before he stood._

_“Make sure she gets home okay.”_

I did get home okay. My parents were called and I was put to bed. The doctor came and diagnosed me with Scarlet fever. That was last August. For four months I stayed at home in bed. Mom and nonna fussed over me. When January came I was finally let out on my own. Those months were boring. Staying in bed wasn’t as good as people made it out to be. Mom would bring me books from the library and nonna would try and get me to sew lace. Dad would come and play cards with me in the evening. I thought a lot about that man. Toto. Salvatore. Nonna scrubbed his handkerchief clean and returned it to me pressed and folded. I kept it in my nightstand drawer. I would take it out sometimes and run my finger over the embroidery. CL. Toto. Salvatore. C? L?

_I had decided that as soon as I got well I would find him and return the handkerchief to him as well as a gift like a cake or some cookies. After new year´s I went back to that café and asked the owner about the man. He seemed hesitant at first but gave in when he saw my determination. He told me that I could find Charlie Luciano here maybe the next day at around midday. Charlie. Not Toto. Not Salvatore. He stressed the name. Looked at me for some type of understanding. A warning signal. I didn’t want to see it though._

_So I ran to the grocers and bought all the ingredients to make a Cassata. Nonna tried to help but I shooed her away, wanting to do it all myself. Wanting it to turn out perfect because of me. I imagined his face as I gave it to him. I practised the words I would say to him. To show him how grateful I was for him helping me. The reality was a lot more harsh than I had expected._

_I bathed that morning and put on my best clothes and even a little lipstick and went and waited in that café since ten that morning, waiting for him to come in. There weren’t any women in that café. The owner, whose name was Gennaro, asked me to sit at the back behind a curtain as not to upset the male patronage. He told me kindly that he would tell me when Mr. Luciano comes in. So he sat me down with a cup of coffee and a cannoli which I was too nervous to eat. All that was in my head was that I would finally meet my saviour. At around midday sure enough the door jingled open and a strange hush came over the bar. I peeked through the slot in the curtain and saw Mr. Luciano from the side, taking off his hat. My stomach churned painfully._

_He was sitting down opposite Giuseppe Masseria._

_Reality dawned on me now. Why Mr. Gennaro was so hesitant. Mafiosi. I saw Mr. Gennaro bend and say something to Luciano, who nodded. My resolve failed me at that moment. A couple of seconds later Mr. Gennaro poked his head around the curtain and motioned for me to follow him. And I did._

_Walking through that café I felt totally exposed. I knew every pair of eyes were on me. Luciano didn’t look at me, he kept his eyes on his espresso, but a small smirk was playing around his mouth. The first thing I noticed about him was that his eye lashes were long. The rest, the scar, the droopy eyelid, that all came into focus a few seconds later. I stood awkwardly for a few seconds before clearing my throat._

_“Excuse me…I…uh….wanted to thank you for helping me….when I fell.”_

_“I helped you?” He asked, looking at me now. The same dark hazel eyes held my own. Recognition in them if not in his voice or words. I knew he remembered me. As to why he was being rude that was another question. My palms began to sweat in embarrassment. I looked at Mr. Masseria, who looked like he was enjoying himself immensely, for a second._

_“Yes. So I made you this, to say thank you.” I set the cake down on the table and fumbled in my purse for the handkerchief. “It´s Cassata, I don’t know if you like it or not…..and this is yours.” I set down the handkerchief on top of the cake._

_“Thanks.” He lit up a cigarette dismissively and tapped his lighter on the table._

_“Well, thank you again.” I smiled, embarrassed, and made to leave. Mr. Gennaro held the door open for me and gave me a sympathetic look. As soon as the door closed a wave of raucous laughter made me stop in my tracks for a few seconds. I almost ran home, confused and embarrassed. As soon as I rounded the corner I wiped the lipstick off my lips and messed up my hair a bit. I had never felt like such a little girl in my life._

The next day I received a bouquet of pink roses and a thank you note from him. Mom and nonna where delighted. Dad more reserved. I could catch him looking at me every so often. His face sad. His eyes would speak a million words. That night he pulled me into the empty living room as asked what was the deal? How did I know that man? I told him the honest truth. Thankfully he believed me. Mom and nonna were chattering nonstop about why he would send such nice flowers. Dad refused angrily to be drawn into the discussion. He wouldn’t even look at me as he brooded over the paper. He didn’t have a word to throw to the dog. Mom went quiet after that. As did nonna. It was all unspoken. The bouquet was removed from dining room table to my bedroom. That night I lay in bed and tried to understand my own confused feelings about all of this. I knew dad knew who this man was. And he wasn’t happy about it. The fact that he was so annoyed about it all made me on edge even more, sucked all fun out of it. Mom and nonna kept on talking about intentions. His intentions. They never said marriage outright. Did I want that? Did I want to get married? Now? Two of my friends from school were. Another three engaged. I didn’t even have a boyfriend. Dad always put a stop to any boy that came knocking for a walk or a trip to the movies. My daydreams always brought me back to Luciano. That elusive, dangerous man. I had never seen him before that day I fell. But ever since the café incident almost a month back I had been seeing him around a lot more. Across the street walking whenever I came out of the secretarial school. Once when I was shopping with my mom. Another time when I went back to ask Señora Linares could I rejoin the class. The most recent a few minutes ago.

Did I even want him?

That was the question I needed to ask myself.


	2. The girl who dropped from the sky

Marriage was a funny business. Meyer was unhappy. Benny was unusually cowed. The rest? Carlo? Albert? Vito? They were happy enough.   
I was thinking about marriage. To find a nice girl. To start a family. It would help to consolidate my power when the time comes.   
The others would trust me only so far. If I had a nice Sicilian girl as a wife they would trust me more. I wouldn’t be the Jew lover anymore.   
Turned out I didn’t have to look. The girl, Lucrezia, literally fell at my feet. That was the one time I acted without calculating. It was natural that I picked her up and brought her inside the café. It was natural that I cleaned her up. It was natural to help her. To be gentle with her. To sooth her. It was the most natural feeling in the world to want her to get home safe.   
That was something that I pondered over a long time after. The most honourable act I had ever committed. Something so small. So natural. Something that any good human being would have done. And it was the first time I ever did something like that.   
If I had to admit to anything I would be lying if I said it didn’t please me immensely to have her show up unexpectedly with a homemade cake and my handkerchief pressed and starched. Whatever self satisfaction I felt when Gennaro told me that she was here waiting for me evaporated the minute I set sights on her again. How uncomfortable she was. Knowing she was being watched by every man in that place. I was rude to her because it was the only way I knew how to act. I didn’t know how to be nice then, like I was before. I never thanked her for the cake which I had eaten steadily for over a week. I had never given her any thought after that day.   
But she had thought about me. I had made enough of an impact for her to seek me out and make me a cake and return a handkerchief I had forgotten I even owned.   
I didn’t want her to make a big show of gratitude in front of all those people. I didn’t want her to because it made me feel uncomfortable. No girl had ever baked me a cake. Then again the types of girls I was usually around weren’t the type she was. Or seemed to be.   
She assumed I was a normal human being for helping her. She did the normal thing by thanking me.   
That was that.   
Over.  
So why the hell was I haunted by the look of embarrassment she had? Because I had caused it? What was she expecting? Probably a normal person. If she didn’t know who I was or who I was sitting with then she was one dumb Dora. She knew alright. Her eyes said it all.   
Checking my watch I saw that it was about the time Silvia Matuzza went for her evening stroll. I would accidentally bump into her on the street, press a note into her hand, and we would meet in the basement of her building for whatever she wanted to give up to me.   
I knew she was expecting a proposal. Some type of declaration of my intent. She thought that she gave just enough I would be enticed. Smitten. Hooked into giving her the wedding she wanted. The money she craved. She had never baked me a cake.   
I stepped out from the café into the cold air. Tonino and Gaetano for company although we didn’t speak. February had that effect on people. It made us all on edge. More murderous.   
It was then that I spotted the girl. Lucrezia. Now that I knew her face she would be probably be around more often. I saw her before she saw me. She was keeping pace beside a boy on a bicycle. A gangly youth of about fourteen or fifteen.   
Her wavy hair was contained under a dark green woollen beret. Dark eyes shone. Shapely mouth curved in polite response. Cheeks reddening as soon as she saw me.   
I nodded at her, once. A curt nod. One of recognition and walked past her for the promise of an unsatisfactory encounter in a dark basement hall.   
Maybe if I thought of her tonight it would feel warmer than Silvia´s almost clinical caresses. She offered up her kisses like she was bestowing me with a Queen´s favour. Blue eyes and blonde hair could only get you so far. There was nothing worse than that type of girl. Let her trap another fool.   
I almost wanted to turn back and follow Lucrezia home. Thank her for thanking me. Thank her for the cake. But I wouldn’t. I would never allow myself.   
I put on my gloves as I got out onto the street and into the waiting car. Silvia didn’t even so much as sigh as I teased her pussy. I didn’t like how she looked away from me as she gave me a hand job. It was like she was trying to wash it clean. Get it over with as soon as possible. If she thought that low of me, if the thought of me was so repugnant to her, then I sure as hell wouldn’t be putting a ring on her finger. No matter how beautiful she was. I´d take her out maybe once or twice more and then pawn her off on someone else. Tonight I was going to get fucked by a woman who knows how to fuck.   
Tonight I was going to call Gay. But not before I sent some flowers and a thank you note for the cake to the girl.   
It was a night like any other. The supper club had a full band in play and the dance floor was full. Of course we had our usual table. Up on a balcony overlooking the dance floor and away from the noise and chatter. Silvia was sitting next to me with a straight back, using table manners she had probably read and learned from a book. She was beginning to annoy me. Every question she was asked she answered with another question. Giving the bare minimum of information to everybody else at the table. I knew she didn’t listen to who was talking, she was carefully planning what she was going to say next. I let my glance linger on the three empty seats between Vito and Benny. Carlo was running late. Probably Catherine was busy with the kid. I didn’t know. All I knew was that they were bringing a distant cousin of hers with them tonight. A childhood friend.   
Meyer and Anna were ignoring each other. She looked put out. He looked like he couldn’t care less.   
I spotted her then. A second after I saw Carlo and Catherine walk in.   
The girl. Lucrezia.   
It was always hard for me to describe complicated feelings. My heart both grew and broke as I watched her innocent eyes take in her surroundings with barely concealed delight and curiosity. Her face a perfect picture of awe. A dress that was a shade lighter than the pink roses I had sent her was clinging to her figure. Her lips roughed.   
Whatever effect she seemed to have on me always left me feeling on edge. I didn’t know how to be around her.   
I prayed she wouldn’t thank me again.   
“What is Lucrezia Saia doing here?” Silvia whispered in my ear, annoyed.   
“Fuck should I know.” I looked at her rather petulant face. “Do you want me to get rid of her?”   
“You could do that?”   
I didn’t like the look of glee that lit up her face then. The arrogance. I snorted in disgust and took a long drink of whiskey.   
“You are amazing you know that?” I told her out straight before standing up to greet Carlo and his companions. “You took your time.” I greeted as we shook hands. I kissed Catherine on the cheek.  
“That was Lucrezia´s fault.” Catherine teased. “She couldn’t leave until her dad came home from work.”   
I looked at her fully. Two dark orbs staring at me. Such an inviting colour. She didn’t thank me. She knew better this time.  
“How are you?” I asked as I extended my hand. She took it and we moved in closer to each other. “Charlie.” It was over in a flash of heat as we kissed cheeks. Too quick.   
“Lucrezia.” She squeezed my hand and I unwillingly released her.   
I had to look on as she was introduced to the rest of the group. The feeling of being on edge intensified. I had only felt this way when I had a big operation. Something that could end in death or success. I wanted to fling myself forward into action. I wanted her to look at me. To give me a smile. To talk to me. To like me. I wanted success.   
Everybody sat down after a few minutes and the chatter started up again. I watched as Lucrezia looked at Silvia coolly.   
“Hello Silvia.” She greeted.  
“Hello Lucy.” She greeted back, her voice sugary sweet. “Surprised to see you out.”   
“Not as surprised as I was when Catherine finally convinced my dad.”   
“Must be nice for you. A treat. Enjoy it.” She said it loud enough for everyone to hear. I made the decision then that she was never coming back here or out with me again. Meyer raised his eyebrows a little and smirked.  
Lucrezia and Catherine both looked at Silvia incredulously then proceeded to talk to each other quietly.   
So I watched her, and listened to her. Banal chatter about their families, cousins. Normal chatter.   
“When did you come here?” Meyer asked her. That man could read me like a goddamn book. His eyes touched mine briefly. It went all unsaid that he would ask the questions for me.  
“When I was eight. So just over ten years ago.” She smiled at Meyer. “How about you.”   
“The same, more or less.”  
“It was difficult wasn’t it? Getting used to everything.” Her eyes lingered on me for a few seconds, knowing I was listening. Then flickered to Silvia and finally back to Meyer.  
“I remember you getting into a lot of trouble at school. You were like deaf and dumb. A mute.” Silvia laughed, joining in. I wondered at their history. They obviously hated each other.   
“Try going to school not speaking a lick of English. I wasn’t born here like you.”   
“Well at least Lucrezia sticked it out.” Catherine chimed in sweetly. “Graduated high school with honours.”   
“My father said it is a waste of money to educate girls.” Silvia knew nobody would say the contrary.   
“Well at least when you have children you can give them a good education.” Meyer told her, saving her as always with the right words that put a stop to the rather tense conversation.   
“It was the same for me when I came here.” I told her, lighting up a cigarette. She looked at me wordlessly. “You are braver than me for staying.”   
“You talking about school again?” She asked me, looking over the balcony.   
“I suppose so.” I let my eyes wander over her figure. She was almost as tall as I was in heels. A little thin. Breasts a bit too small but I found that strangely attractive on her. The suggestive outline of her nipples showing through the thin fabric of her dress made me more resolved than ever. The pouty curve of her mouth. A dangerous type of beauty. “Did you like the flowers?”  
“Of course I did.” She said quietly. “You didn’t have to send them.”  
“I wanted to. An apology. You gave me that cake at the worst time and place.”   
“I think I have a talent for choosing the wrong things.” She shrugged her shoulders and looked down at the glass of wine in her hand.   
“I hope that doesn’t apply to me.” I stepped in closer to her.   
“You are here with Silvia Matuzza. The beauty queen.”   
“She doesn’t hold a candle to you. Say the word and she is history.”   
I surprised myself more than her saying those words. Her eyes ghosted over my face, unwilling to hold eye contact with me. I hoped she took in every scar, the drop of my eye, every pot mark and blemish. I hoped she would look at me, not the suit, not the jewellery, but me. I begged her silently for that.   
“You don’t know me.” She said eventually. “I don’t know you. Are you sure you are willing to give up Silvia Matuzza because you like the look of me tonight?”   
“I liked the look of you even when you were ill and sweating like a pig. I liked the look of you in the café. I liked the look of you on the street. I liked the look of you carrying home groceries. A nice dress and made up hair doesn’t make someone who is already beautiful any more beautiful.”   
“I could be just as horrible as Silvia. A pretty face doesn’t last long.”   
“I think you are a good person. But everyone has their faults.”  
“You don’t know me.” She shook her head and I stepped in closer to her. I was angry.  
“If you want to say no to me just come out and say it.” I snarled in her ear. “Stop beating round the fucking bush.”  
“I am not saying no to you. I just need to know if you are being sincere. Silvia might let men use her if she has a chance of a rich husband and a wedding ring on her finger but I won’t.”  
“I don’t think you would be standing here talking to me if I smelt like shit and wearing work overalls.”   
“A fancy suit and perfect haircut doesn’t make an attractive man any more attractive. We will still be just as flawed when you take away all the clothes and stand naked in front of each other.”   
I cupped her face and ran a thumb over her lips. If anything her eyes turned impossibly darker. A storm was starting to brew inside me. I wouldn’t let myself touch her any more than this. I wouldn’t be kissing her tonight. The feeling now was too sweet to spoil it all now. I would wait. It seemed like I was waiting my whole fucking life for her. I could wait a little more. Because I knew she wanted me too.   
“Let me talk to your father. Let me show you my intentions. Come out with me, spend time with me, then you can make up your mind about me.”   
“And you can make up your mind about me.”   
I already had. I didn’t tell her she was right. That her fears were well founded. I desired her. I wanted her body. I wanted to possess her mind and soul as well. I wanted her possess her whole being. Have those dark eyes just for me. That mouth just for my pleasure. She was mine. I would give her anything she wanted, get down on my knees and revere her just for granting me access. I would worship her. Treat her the best out of any man who would want her.   
And when the time comes, when we would be alone and naked together, nothing to hide who we really were, I would bare my soul to her. Show her I could be tender. Show her the depth of my soul. How deep my passion was. Touch her in such a way where she wouldn’t even want to look at another man.   
I would go to her father tomorrow. Talk to him. Make him agree. Then, in a few months we would be married.   
And I would have the Sicilian wife at home and no-one would ever dare question who I was and where my loyalties lay.   
Silvia Matuzza may have been the obvious choice, but she was a stupid choice. Lucrezia Saia would be more than I could have dreamed of.   
I took my hand away, missing immediately the warmth of her skin.   
“Is your name really Charlie?” She asked me. I stared at her for a while.   
“Salvatore.” I told her. She gave me a small smile in response.


	3. The Good bastard

I watched as he saw the girl came into the café. Today she was wearing a red beret that suited her colouring perfectly and a sensible dark navy coat. We made eye contact and as usual the girl blushed and tried to hide a smile.  
I found that there was something endearing about the way she did that.  
I liked how her dark eyes sparkled. I liked how she looked at me.  
It was like slow motion, me standing up and her walking towards me hesitantly.  
And we faced each other. Soon enough a waiter appeared to take her coat and hat.  
“I always see you around.” I joked to break the awkwardness a little.  
“Same with me.”  
“Sit down, please.” I pulled out a chair for her, something Rothstein had taught me.  
“Thank you.” Her hair was a dark mass of waves, longer than was fashionable at the moment but I had always liked long hair on women. I knew that if her hair was any shorter it would be almost impossible to tame. It was beautiful hair though. Dark and thick and shiny. I felt again that strange sense of longing as I looked at her. I supressed the crazy desire to reach out and touch her.  
“What can I get you?” The waiter asked.  
“Espresso with ice.” She told him.  
“On a cold day?” I asked, perplexed.  
“I like cold coffee in the afternoons.” She admitted, red faced.  
“Get me one too.” I told the waiter, keeping my eyes on Lucrezia.  
He nodded wordlessly and scurried away.  
“Lucrezia.”  
“Yes?”  
“Pretty name. Like a princess.” My compliment made her blush again. I decided that her name suited her. It was regel. And sweet. Interesting. Like she was.  
“Not really.”  
“Well I think so. Where you from? In the old country?”  
“Sciacca.” She answered hesitantly. “And you?”  
“Lercara Friddi.”  
“The sulphur mines?”  
“The very same place.”  
“I´d like to say that´s nice but it mustn’t have been.” She smiled at me, showing good teeth, white teeth.  
“I knew you were Sicilian the second I saw you. You have the look.”  
She looked amused for some reason. “There is a look?”  
“Of course.”  
“I suppose so. Or maybe I am an American now. Like you.” She looked at me steadily. I didn’t like it. She wasn’t making fun of me but I felt that she could see inside me. I was an American but not entirely, like her.  
“How long have you been here?”  
“For about ten years.”  
“And how come I have only noticed you recently? It was like you fell out of the sky and landed at my feet.” I was flirting. I liked to make her blush. I liked making her uncomfortable. Most of all I liked that I got that reaction from her. No other broad had ever blushed at me. Played coy yes, pretended of course.  
“Maybe because you wanted to?”  
“You don’t give anything away do you?” I found I could smile naturally at her.  
“I only know what goes on in my head.” She giggled, enjoying herself.  
“What are you thinking now?”  
“I am not telling you that.”  
“Why not?” I leaned on the table, wanting to be closer to her. Her dark, inky brown eyes sparkled with something. A little secret maybe.  
“You are Sicilian. You tell me why I shouldn’t tell you.”  
It was an admittance of her attraction. She took a sip of her coffee and looked out the window.  
“I don’t usually drink coffee with Sicilian girls.”  
“Oh? Why are you having coffee with me then?”  
“I don’t know. There is something about you I like. You are interesting.” I was telling her the truth. There was something about her. Something that called to me. Something about the way she looked and the just the way she was that made me want to be close to her. She looked at me sceptically. “It´s true.” I told her.  
“That is the only reason?” She smiled, a little sadly.  
“No. You are easy on the eyes as well.” She blushed again and looked into her coffee. She was pleased. Easy on the eyes. She was beautiful. Warm. Like the sun had kissed her and she glowed ever since.  
“You are not bad yourself.” She whispered.  
“Thanks.” That little compliment made me wildly happy. I must be going crazy.  
We looked at each other wordlessly for a few seconds. Various emotions ran through me. I wanted her. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted her in my bed. But not only that. More than anything, I wanted to be near her. To hear her talk. To know all there is to be known about her.  
I sensed that she was lonely. Just like I was.  
“So you are from Sciacca. I thought everyone from there went to Boston.”  
“They do mostly. But we had family here so New York it was.”  
“Too bad for you.” I joked again. “I hear Boston is great this time of year, the way it is overrun with Micks.”  
“It´s okay. She smiled at me again and looked at me through her eyelashes. “If we hadn’t I wouldn’t be drinking coffee with the Sicilian who doesn’t usually have coffee with Sicilian girls.”  
“Then I am happy.” I fought the urge to caress her hand. Too much. Too soon. It would be dangerous. I took my hand away and got out a cigarette. Offering her one she declined, so I took it instead. She still had her hands on the table. The same place and position. I knew she wanted me to take them. I wasn’t going to. Not here. There were too many eyes watching us. Eyes that would report any goings on. And if it got back to her parents it would get complicated.  
“When did you come here?” She asked, putting her hands out of sight on her lap.  
“When I was nine. With my family. It was tough.” I didn’t usually go into those things with other people. But with her I felt that I could tell her and she wouldn’t judge. She wouldn’t give me those pitying poor baby looks.  
“I bet it was. The way people used to talk about America. Saying the pavements were lined with gold. That everyone lived in a big house and got fat. When you come here it is a big shock. Like a different world.”  
“It is a different world. You have to be either very strong or very lucky to make it here.”  
“Which one are you?”  
“Both.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her which made her giggle.  
“Have you made your way here?”  
“Look at me and you tell me.”  
“You mean your clothes? Does that show success?”  
“People judge you on how you look. How you dress. Would you be sitting with me and talking to me if I was dressed in work overalls and smelling of shit?”  
“It would still be you. The same person. The same ideas and the same questions. You would still have the same family and same friends. But you are right in a way. The way you dress, you want to show people how successful you are. And it works. But I am not interested in that.”  
“Bullshit you aren’t.” I felt myself getting on the defensive. Who was she? This kid. Telling me what I think about myself. “Women only understand one thing.” I rubbed my thumb and forefinger together to prove my point. She looked a little shocked.  
“I already have money for nice clothes. I don’t need to work. So why do you think I am sitting here with you? For your money when I already have it?”  
“So why are you?”  
“I think you are interesting.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I like the way you handle yourself. Maybe I want to know what you are thinking. How you see things. Like that night when you talked to me alone and said all that stuff to me.”  
I couldn’t answer her for a while. I just smoked. Looking at her. She seemed disappointed.  
“I am glad you think I am interesting.” I said quietly. “And I am happy you are not looking for my money.”  
“You think I want to capture you?” Her eyes lit up playfully. “Using my Italian charms to drag you in?”  
“You would have one hell of a struggle there.”  
“I don’t doubt that. But that is not what I want. Nor my parents. There is more to life than having a man.” Her honesty was refreshing and surprising. I smiled at her in relief.  
“Not even if the man was rich and could give you everything you wanted?”  
“No. What if he beat me and didn’t love me? What use is money then?”  
“Security.”  
“How can you be secure if you husband doesn’t think of your security? Would you want that for your sisters?”  
“I would kill the man who laid a finger on my sisters that way.”  
“But I don’t have a brother who is able to protect me.”  
“I´ll protect you.” I spoke ardently. I meant it. “Tell me first if some jabroni is annoying you.”  
“Okay then. You will be the first person I tell.” She was pleased. I liked that. I liked to see her smile.  
“Good. I mean it too.”  
“Is Silvia still your girlfriend?”  
Silvia. I was wondering if she was going to be brought up or not.  
“Sometimes. When I need her.” I was candid. Lucrezia tried to look accepting of the information and nodded.  
“She is very beautiful.” Somehow the compliment didn’t really have any heart.  
“She is I suppose. She´s fun.” Lucrezia nodded again. Looking even younger, and sadder.  
“Have you been together long?”  
“No.”  
“Are you going to marry her?”  
“Fuck no!” I laughed. She looked totally confused. “I mean Silvia is beautiful and all but she is not the type of woman I want having my kids.”  
“I need to go home now.” She looked apologetic and even more eager to leave. “I need to help my mother with the dinner.” She stood up and looked for the waiter, who nodded and went to get her coat and hat.  
I didn’t want her to leave. And I was sorry that I frightened her but she asked for it. Somehow it was impossible to lie to this girl.  
“I´ll take you home.” I told her.  
“Its fine.”  
“I insist. It is dangerous.”  
“No it isn’t.”  
“Don’t argue with me because I will just do it anyway Lucrezia.”  
“Are you used to getting your own way all the time?” I took the coat from the waiter and helped her into it and she put on her beret and gloves.  
“Usually.”  
“I hope you enjoyed having coffee with me.” She blushed again and searched my face for something.  
“It was the nicest time I have had in a long time.” And it was true. It was nice. She made me feel normal for once in my life. And she was interested in me. For whatever strange reason. “Thank you.”  
“For what?”  
“Showing me a nice time.”  
“Thank you for talking with me. And the coffee too.”  
We stood and looked at each other, neither of us willing to leave. There was something going on with her. Her eyes gave her away. She couldn’t hide anything. She didn’t want to go home.  
“Do you want to take a walk before you go home?” Her face lit up considerably. Again I felt that wave of sympathy and protectiveness wash over me. And pleasure too. That she wanted to spend more time with me.  
“I´d love too.” She smiled expansively up at me, showing straight white teeth. Really good teeth.  
“Good…” I choked out. “That’s good. We can take a walk around the old neighbourhood. There´s a really good place for gelato I know. I want you to try it. If it doesn’t spoil your appetite that is.”  
“It won´t. I always eat everything.” She was quick to reassure.  
We walked out into the biting cold. She huddled into herself and snuggled into her scarf.  
“There is nothing like the cold here. Have you gotten used to it yet?”  
“Not really no. Not like this. I was so sick when I first came here. Always getting colds and flus. Drove my parents crazy.”  
“Have you had many boyfriends?”  
“Who are you Torquemada or something?” She laughed.  
“Who?”  
“The Spanish Inquisition.” She tried to clarify.  
“You are losing me.” I felt stupid. Really idiotic. A sixth grade education only gets you so far.  
“He was a real bad guy. One of the worst.”  
“You think I am a bad guy?” How much did she know about me? I mean really know. Had she heard the rumours that floated around? She was with Carlo last night. And Catherine for sure knew what he was up to. I suddenly wished I was someone different. Someone who was good for her. Someone who was on her level. A good man. A jabroni who took the subway everyday to work with a packed lunch. Someone who wasn’t dangerous. Someone who wasn’t going to hell for what he had done in his life.  
“No.” She stopped and looked into my eyes. I mean really searched them. “What?”  
“I was just trying to figure out what colour your eyes are.” She was all seriousness.  
“Hazel. Shit coloured.”  
“No Salvatore. Not hazel. Or shit. Nicer than hazel. Sometimes brown. Sometimes green. Sometimes blue.”  
“Yeah, hazel.” He felt totally exposed. He was afraid of what she found in them. If she could see everything that I was in them she would run away screaming. The fact that she called me Salvatore also made me feel somehow on trial.  
“Good eyes. Not the eyes of a bad man.” She gave me a small reassuring smile. Her eyes soft.  
“You don’t know me Lucrezia.” I whispered down to her. I wasn’t warning her. He was asking her to know me better.  
“Can I know you? Would you let me know you even?”  
That would be foolish. And dangerous. And if she knew the extent of what I was involved in she would run away. She would be disgusted with me. Or would she? She was one of my own. She understood these things. But whether she accepted them or not was another question.  
“There is nothing really to know about me.” I lied. “My name is Salvatore. I am thirty three years old. I have two brothers and two sisters. What else do you need to know?”  
“Your favourite colour maybe?” She joked, trying to make me relax.  
“My favourite fucking colour?” I said in disbelief. She smiled widely again. I looked deep into her eyes. “Your eye colour is my favourite colour from now on.”  
“Brown isn’t really fashionable.” She made a disbelieving face.  
“Nicer than brown.” I brushed a curl behind her ear and stroked her face gently. “Like coffee. Like chocolate. Like the earth. Innocent eyes.”  
I really wanted to kiss her. To feel her close to me. It was like a compulsion. One that I could usually control except with her. From the moment I laid eyes on her she called to me. I gave her cheek one final stroke before pulling my hand away. Her skin was so soft. And she wasn’t wearing any makeup. I decided I liked that. Putting on my leather gloves I motioned that we should start walking.  
I was totally aware of her. Of her every movement. I kept her on the inside of the pavement, away from the side of the traffic. Not that she would be hurt but accidents happened.  
Every so often we would make eye contact. A million unspoken things sped between us in those short seconds. Our unspoken attraction for each other. Things that we didn’t want to say out loud. Because whatever was going on now was perfect. What we both needed it seemed. Anything more would just ruin it. Whatever this was. I had never had a friend that was a girl. Gay didn’t really count although she knew a lot about me. But there was so much more that I found I was willing to share with this girl. She was like an island in a way. Away from what was happening in my life. Not connected to it at all. Someplace that I could think about different things. Only focus on one thing. Or one person. A person that found me interesting.  
“Why do you think I´m interesting?” I asked her curiously, looking at her from the corner of my eye.  
“There is something about you.” She seemed to be struggling for words. “Something special.”  
“Like what?”  
“It´s difficult to explain. It´s something about your eyes.”  
“I could say the same about you.” I said huskily. I reflected that it would be so sweet doing it with her. Having her whenever I wanted. It would be so easy. After some gentle persuasion she would give into me.  
I was gripped with self-disgust with that thought. That poor girl didn’t need me fucking up her life. She wasn’t looking for that. And I might be bad but I wasn’t that type of bad. I could wait.  
I don’t know if that should make me happy or terrified.” She said quietly.  
“Both I hope.”  
“Do you want to scare me off or get to know me better?”  
“Both.”  
She contemplated me for a while. “I think I understand. I want to know you better. It must be a real bore having coffee with a girl like me. I know that I am not the type of person usually in your circle.”  
“You are twisting my words.”  
“I know.” She was giving me a way out. To end this before it had even begun. To leave our nice little encounter as something nice. If she was scared then I was terrified. I was swimming in waters that I had never swum in before.  
“So the gelato.” I said instead, deciding on the spot that I didn’t want whatever this was, to end today.  
“Gelato on a cold day.” She raised her eyebrows at me, her mouth curving into a small smile.  
“Like the coffee.” I smiled down at her. I wished that she wasn’t on my bad side. The scar had never bothered me before that much when it came to women but I wanted her to find me just as attractive as I found her. And that scar said a lot about the type of person I am. If she didn’t know by now then she was an idiot. So what did I want? For her to come to her senses and run away? The reality was that I wanted her to know and accept. I wanted her to want me. “Would you think I´m being too forward if I told you that you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen?”

The pure look of delight that lit up her face was too much, even for me. I felt guilt stab at me for some strange reason. It wasn’t as if I was lying to her. I had told her the truth. If anything I was being more honest with her than I had been with a lot of women.  
“You like the look of me that much?” She asked me quietly. I nodded, wanting to kiss her, touch her. Do the only thing I really knew how to do with women.  
“How late can you stay out?” I asked her quietly. Somehow I already knew the answer. Her face dropped again. The light going away.  
“The other night was an exception.”  
“So what´s the rule?”  
“The same rule for nearly all the girls around here.”  
“How old are you?”  
“Nineteen.”  
She was too young. Too sheltered. Too innocent for my life. I didn’t want to get involved in some mess that it would be difficult to get myself out of in the future.  
What was I doing here? With her? Acting like a sap with a bouquet of posies. Taking her for a walk and then a gelato.  
“You are just a kid.”  
She looked me straight in the eye again. Searching. Sussing out my intentions. Seeking out the meaning behind my words.  
Again she read my mind.  
“That´s true. I can´t help that though.” She said simply and utterly unapologetic. “I really think I should go home. I can walk the rest of the way myself.”  
I felt a bit panicked. I didn’t want her to go yet. Or else I didn’t want what was happening to end. Then again I felt the reigns being dragged out of my control.  
She wasn’t dumb. Or naïve.  
She was the strangest girl I had ever met and I liked it.  
I didn’t want her to go but I wasn’t going to let her know it.  
“Whatever you want.” I stopped and faced her. She had her head turned to the other side of the street, not looking at me, but again, at something in the distance. Or she was making herself distant.  
“Thanks again for the coffee. I really enjoyed it.”  
“It was nothing.” I shrugged and looked away from her. I felt her eyes on me again. She was quiet for a while.  
“Maybe we…” She hesitated and my eyes snapped back to her face. “I had a really nice time.” She said instead.  
Before I knew it she kissed my cheeks. The softness of her skin burned mine. Left me tingling with anticipation. The smell of clean soap and something citrusy lingering. The light touch of her hand on my forearm as enough to make me want to take her hand and drag her off somewhere private.  
She backed away before I had a chance to react. With a small wave of her hand she was gone, walking down the street with a slightly hurried pace.  
I was left looking at the back of her navy coat until she disappeared out of sight around a corner.  
I didn’t like it one bit.  
I turned and walked back towards the café.  
I looked back down in the direction that she had took and decided to follow her. Make sure she was okay.


	4. Victory

I knew he followed me home. I knew that he knew I knew but I didn´t let it show, and he didn´t either. I climbed the four flights of stairs home and before I opened the door tried to rearrange my face into something normal. Of course mom knew where I had been, who I had seen so I readied myself for the barrage of questions that would sure follow me opening the door.   
"I´m home." I called out. I smelt dinner cooking. Fried peppers and onions. I was too excited to feel hungry. Too confused about what had happened today to even try and answer mom´s questions.   
"Good." She called from the kitchen. She appeared at the door, drying her hands on her apron. She gave me an appraising look. Nothing more. "Get changed and set the table. Your nonna doesn´t feel too well."   
"What´s wrong with her?" I asked, taking off my coat and hanging it up by the door.  
"Hang that up in your closet. It cost an arm and a leg." Mom admonished. "Nothing, she´s old." Mom went back into the kitchen and after I hung up my coat and changed my clothes I set the table and brought nonna the clear broth that mom had prepared for her.  
"Nonna?" I opened the door and found her sitting up in bed looking out the window. Her face immediately spread into a smile as she spotted me. "How are you feeling?"  
"Better." She pushed herself up a little and patted the bed, signalling that I should sit down. "How was today? With Salvatore?"   
"It was nice." I placed the tray on her lap and sat beside her.   
It had been nice. Strange. The way he looked at me made me both nervous and excited. The things he said. His honesty. How I didn´t want it to end. But it did. It had to. We hadn´t made any other plans to meet again. If he wanted to I supposed the invitation would come from dad again.   
"Just nice?" Nonna asked. "Back in my day there would be no way that a girl could meet with a man on her own. Your parents should have insisted on a chaperone."   
I inwardly rolled my eyes at her. I got the feeling that Salvatore wasn´t the type of man who played by old country rules.   
"It was nice." I reaffirmed, not wanting to press the matter.   
"Lucrezia, you do know that he was courting Silvia Matuzza?"   
"What is everybody´s obsession with her? Just because her family where some big shots back in Sicily doesn´t mean that they are here."   
"You don´t understand these things. Perhaps she rejected him, and he´s settling on you. She has the looks of a doll. You have the looks of a whore."   
I turned away from her in annoyance. "You should eat that." I got off the bed and went back to the kitchen.   
It took only five minutes of me banging around pots and pans until mom snapped at me.  
"Will you stop that!" Mom yelled. "You should know better than to listen to her."   
"Do you think I´m being a fool?"  
She stopped what she was doing and sat me down at the table.   
"Lucrezia, you are the most beautiful girl in the world to me. It´s just....it scares me. This man, he shows up out of nowhere demanding to court you. Demanding Lucrezia. You know your father is not one to be threatened but when it comes to....those people....who can refuse? But courtship doesn´t have to mean marriage. Unless you want it."  
"I know who he is." I said quietly.   
"And does that scare you?"  
"No, not really. Because it doesn´t figure when we talk to one another."   
"You have only talked a handful of times."   
"I want to know what you think. Why does he want to see me?"   
"Only you can know that. Besides the fact that you are beautiful?" Mom told me fondly. "It´s scary to see how much you have grown up. It terrifies your dad to see men taking an interest in you."  
"I´m too tall. Too dark."  
"He seems to like it though." She took my hand. "Lucrezia, promise me that if you feel anyway unsafe with him then you will put a stop to it."   
"He makes me feel like...." I struggled to find the right words. How did he make me feel? "Like he can see inside of me. Every secret I want to keep hidden, it´s like I can see that he knows them, in his eyes. I don´t know how to explain it. It doesn´t scare me. It confuses me."   
"It is a confusing thing." Mom said quietly. "What did the two of you talk about?"  
"Just normal stuff at the beginning. Then other things. It ended strange."  
"Did he touch you?"   
"No." I lied quickly. "He was a gentleman."   
"And if he proposed would you accept?"  
"Now I don´t know." I said truthfully.   
If he did suddenly propose what would I say? Yes because I was too scared that the only really interesting man to show me interest would go away or no because he wasn’t any girls idea of a handsome prince?   
I wanted to know him, not what he wanted to show me but him. He had shown me glimpses today. Small things. Smiles. Touches. His actions put a lie to the carefully constructed image he held himself to. And he was brutally honest with me which I was in a way grateful for. So if Silvia was only his girlfriend when he needed her to be then what was I to become for him? The same? Everything in my being told me that wasn’t the case but nonna had a way of sowing seeds of doubt in peoples minds.   
Who in their right mind would give up Silvia Matuzza for Lucrezia Saia?   
It had been that way for years. The golden girl at school. The girl who could do no wrong. Then there was me. Who would believe a too tall ugly half mute over her?   
That was the way it always had been.   
But this man. Salvatore. He said that I was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.   
Even if that was a lie it was something I had wanted to hear for years from someone other than my mother and father.   
But I had to be smart about it. Saying is one thing as dad has always said. Doing is another.   
When dad came home that evening he only asked me if Salvatore had been respectful towards me and I told him the truth. Yes he had. That was all he wanted to hear. Nothing more. I watched him as he nodded his head and shovel down his whole plate of food before he told me that Salvatore had come to him just before the shop closed to ask if he could see me again.   
My heart inflated with happiness at that news. Whatever limbo I was in today with the fear that it had been just a once off was gone.   
I knew immediately then what my feelings were about this. And about him. 

It turned out that I would see him again two days later, not the next Friday as was arranged. I had just finished secretarial school and was streaming out into the wet evening with my friends Fanny and Grace and the rest of our class. We were planning on getting a coffee before heading back to our neighbourhood. Today had been particularly vexing. That morning I had ran into Silvia Matuzza while she was on her way to open her father´s Jewellery shop. As we walked past each other she called me a whore and a man stealer. A vicious part of me that I never knew I possessed told her I didn’t take anybody who didn’t want to be taken. She went on to tell me she would let everybody know what type of woman I was.   
That part made me nervous. People loved to listen to that type of talk and my parents wouldn’t like it one bit.   
As we separated from the throng and walked down the street I noticed Salvatore on the corner. He was smoking a cigarette, it´s smoke casting unusual shapes into the humid air.   
As we locked eyes I felt my stomach squirm pleasantly. I liked the way a small smile played on his mouth. How his good eye looked happy and how his droopy eye seemed softer.   
“Is that him?” Grace whispered, giggling.   
“Yes.” I answered, trying to suppress the urge to do so too.   
“Where you supposed to be meeting him?” Fanny asked.   
“No.”   
As we approached him I stopped but Fanny and Grace moved on ahead, giggling and looking back at us every so often until they disappeared around a corner.  
“Hello.” He greeted me quietly.   
“Hello.”   
“It´s a nice day, isn’t it?” He started, his eyes dancing, even in the weak light. “Finally the sun is shining.” He brushed some of my hair behind my right ear and briefly let his fingers linger on my face before he resumed his physical distance. Whenever he touched me I was left with an unsatisfied feeling of anticipation that I had never felt before.   
I knew then that I craved more from him. I suppose that is what our mothers and the nuns at school had always droned on about. The difficulties when really faced with this type of emotion. Where it could lead if you didn’t put up a fight.   
Thinking about it now, surrender would probably feel infinitely better than victory. Or maybe the two were the same. It just depended on what your idea of a winner and a loser was.   
“I´m surprised to see you here.” I told him, not even bothering to play coy. Let him hear how happy I was to see him. I didn’t care.   
“I was passing by.” He looked strangely determined. “I promised you gelato the other day.”  
“That´s true.”  
“Your father said I could take you out Friday evening.”   
“He told me you asked and he said yes.”  
“Did you want to say yes.” His eyes burned into mine, seeking the truth.   
“Of course I did.” I answered him honestly. “I was afraid that the last time was to be the last time.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I don’t really know how to act around men. All the advice people give me go in one ear and out the other.” I immediately regretted what I said. “Do you think I´m foolish for saying that? Too naïve? Too young?”   
“No. I like the way you are around me. I like how I am around you. Let´s not change something that doesn’t need to be changed.”   
Before I knew it I kissed him. Not fully but on the side of mouth. The sensation made my breath catch in my throat. He smelt soapy and clean. Very masculine.   
Before I could pull away and look for his reaction he caught my mouth in his own kiss. Soft lips, vaguely tasting of tobacco. A wet tongue gently seeking out my own.   
It wasn’t a victory for him and it wasn’t surrender on my part.


	5. Agony

It was after that first kiss that things between Salvatore and I really started. It was easy to grow closer to him, to start to feel more for this sometimes sombre and brooding man. It became easier to look at him and know right off the bat whether he was playful or serious. Light or dark. There would be times where he took me to a bustling café or restaurant and we would talk and laugh for hours. Other times where we would just walk silently around Central Park or the Zoo, hand in hand. He would seem content like that. His thumb stroking my hand. Those walks I liked the best. Especially because he would always lead me to a secluded spot and kiss me passionately. It was like a silent demand from him. He didn’t only want to touch me, he wanted to be touched in return. He wanted to feel what I felt for him.   
I knew all this. He never had to spell it out for me.   
I never asked either.  
I knew he wanted more after the first few times we did that. After a while I started to want more too. The nervous butterfly sensations began to grow into ones of deep anticipation and when we stopped, I was left feeling dissatisfied. There were places on my body I wanted him to touch more urgently than my face or waist, where he gripped me in a vice like way while his mouth attacked mine. I wanted to feel more of his skin, his body hidden as it was under heavy coats and suits. I wanted him to suggest going someplace even more private.   
I needed him to be the one to say it because I couldn’t be the one to say it out loud. He would think that I was brazen.   
When we would stop we would glance at each other and know. We never needed to say what we wanted. We weren’t going to suggest anything more. Not now.   
I thought about him when I went to bed though. I stayed awake and worked myself into a state of agony thinking about his mouth, his tongue, his hands and most of all that mysterious organ all men had that was meant to go inside a woman. That organ I vaguely felt pressed into me when he pulled my pelvis against his. The agony turned into a sweet bliss as my fingers stole into the place where some girls said we were never supposed to touch. The place where mom explained was for being married and not to be messed with before. I thought about him and it all felt right. It felt amazing. I continued until the feeling reached a point where it spread throughout my body, making me moan and shake on my bed.   
It brought such a feeling of satisfaction that I knew then with Salvatore doing it that it would feel incredibly sweeter.   
The first time I did that I laid for a while in a state of shock. I had woken up from dreams like that but I had never known I could arouse it by just the thought of him.   
I wished he would make a formal offer soon.   
Then I wouldn’t be haunted by the thoughts of him at night if he shared my bed. 

“Salvatore?” I ventured, while we were walking to our spot of the park. A hidden place surrounded by a thicket of bushes and trees.   
“Yeah?”   
“How…” I felt myself blush as we locked eyes. “How do you feel….when we….kiss?”   
His eyes read shock for a few seconds, they then darted around us.   
“I feel good. How ´bout you?”   
Good?   
“I feel good too.” I answered him. It was the truth in a way. A lie in another.   
“If I told you how I really felt you would run screaming from me.” He gave me a half smile and squeezed my hand as we walked through the bushes and into the small space. “At least here it´s hard for you to escape.” He brought his hands to my waist and brought his head down to kiss my cheeks and neck.   
“If I told you how I felt you would think the worst of me.” I whispered as I grabbed onto his forearms, feeling the pleasure starting to mount. He stopped immediately and stared at me accusatorily.   
“What do you mean?” I didn’t like the tone of his voice. Nor the look in his eyes. He had taken it the wrong way.   
“Salvatore…” I started but he cut me off almost immediately.  
“Don’t. Tell me.”   
“I told you I feel good.” I offered him weakly.   
“If you don’t want to do this then…”  
“I do!” I didn’t like him like this. “You know I do.”   
“So what were you yammering on about before?”   
“That…that how you make me feel…when we kiss…it makes me feel…excited.” I tried to pull away from him in embarrassment but he held on tighter.   
“And good girls aren’t meant to feel excited?” His voice was almost strained. “You think I would think the worst of you because of that?”   
“Because everyone says it´s something you have to suffer through. But it only feels like suffering when we stop.”   
“If you feel like you´re suffering when we stop then I feel like I´m being tortured.” There was a definite note of pain in his voice. “You don’t know how hard it is for me to stop when I´m with you like this. How much I need to control myself. It´s not easy Lucrezia.” He took a handful of my curls and fisted them gently. “And hearing you say all this stuff now is making everything harder.”   
“I didn’t mean for that.”   
“I don’t think neither of us did.” He cupped my face and drew me in for a long kiss. “I don’t want to rush you. I want you to be sure. But I ain´t touching you anymore than this until the time is right. I want you to be the only good thing I do right in this world. I´m going to ask your dad formally for your hand tonight. But that don’t mean shit to me unless you say yes. Unless you want me.”   
“Of course I do.” I half choked at him.   
“Promise me that you will stick by me. That you will always see the real me. I ain´t no angel but I ain´t the worst of them either.”   
“I promise.”


End file.
